Uncut Bundle

by Susan Stephens

  She had come in his arms each time they’d made love, but never like this. Cam turned her toward him and held her tight, wanting the moment to last forever.

  “Cam,” she said in wonder, “oh God, Cam…”

  He cupped her bottom, lifted her to him and slipped deep inside her. Leanna gave a ragged cry and locked her legs around his waist as he filled her. Deeper. Deeper. Only his strength, his embrace, his erection kept her from collapsing to the floor.

  They came together in an explosive burst of energy. Leanna wept unashamedly; Cam cried out. He drew her down to the floor and held her tightly against his thundering heart.

  Something was happening to him, something he didn’t understand or want or…

  An unearthly roar filled the air. The windows shattered and Leanna screamed in terror. Cam flung his body over hers as glass flew into the room.

  Outside the window, an enormous black helicopter hovered over the garden, its bulk blocking out the sky.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  “CAM,” Leanna screamed, “Cam, what’s happening?”

  He rolled away from her, grabbed his trousers and pulled them on. The ’copter had moved out of view and was descending. He could hear the whap-whap of its blades.

  “They found us, sweetheart.”

  “The sultan’s men? But—but Shalla said this place was a sanctuary.”

  “Shalla lied.” Glass was in his hair. He could feel tiny shards of it under his feet but he was okay except for that. He grabbed Salome, looked her over quickly, breathed a little easier once he was convinced she wasn’t hurt.

  “Get dressed.”

  She grabbed her clothes, yanked them on with shaking hands. Cam picked up the gun, jacked a shell into the chamber and headed for the door.

  Leanna ran after him. “Cam, wait!”

  He swung toward her, bare-chested, barefoot, the gun in his hand.

  “Bolt the door after me.”

  “No! I’m going with you!”

  “Bolt it and don’t open it, no matter what you hear. Not unless I tell you to open it.”

  “Cameron. I’m not letting you go out there alone.”

  “You damned well are.”

  Leanna stared at Cam. For a moment, he looked like a dangerous stranger. But he wasn’t. He was the man she loved.

  Whatever happened, she wanted to be with him, even if it meant dying with him.

  “I’m going with you, Cam. You can’t stop me.”

  “Damn it, Salome, I don’t have time to argue!”

  “That’s right. You don’t. So get used to it. I’m going—”

  He grabbed her by the shoulders. “The hell you are!”

  Men were shouting and yelling in the distance. He had to get down the stairs, let himself be seen. Run. Lead the bastards away from her and take out as many as he could.

  All he had were minutes to try and save his golden dancer. And if he couldn’t—if he couldn’t, he’d keep one bullet. For her. A quick, painless death would be all he could give her to remember him by through eternity.

  “Salome. Salome, sweetheart—”

  “Don’t ‘sweetheart’ me! I’m not letting you go out there alone.”

  She meant it. He could see that glint in her eye, that tilt to her chin. The determination that was part of who she was, but he’d be damned if that would do her any good this time.

  No way would he take her with him. He was trained in survival. He could deal with what waited outside this door. She would be at the mercy of the killers who’d come for them.

  “I’m done arguing,” he said bluntly. “You’re staying here.”

  “Please.” Her voice broke. She put her hands on his chest and looked up at him, tears bright in her eyes. “I know you’re trying to protect me. And—and I love you for it. I love you for everything you are, Cam. Do you hear me? I love you!”

  There they were, the words he’d known she wanted to say, the words he knew couldn’t really be true.

  Then, why did they pierce his heart?

  “That’s why you have to let me go with you,” she said. “Don’t you see? I love you!”

  He had to silence her. Had to force her to stay behind. There was only one way to do it, even if it hurt her.

  Cam took her hands from his chest and yanked them to her sides. “Don’t be a child,” he said sharply. “We had sex, lady. Sex. Don’t confuse it with love.”

  She blanched. “You’re wrong. I love you.”

  “And I love breathing,” he said, hating himself more than he’d ever thought possible. This wasn’t the way their affair was supposed to end, but he’d run out of choices. Saving her was all that mattered. His honor demanded it. “I’m going outside. You’re staying here until I get back. You got that?”

  Her face was white. Her mouth trembled. He cursed, drew her to him and crushed her mouth with his. She didn’t respond and he could have sworn he felt his soul shatter as he let her go.

  “Remember to throw the bolt.”

  Then he went out the door, waited until he heard the lock slide home and raced down the stairs.

  The sultan’s thugs were in the courtyard. Six men. No, eight. Cam felt the old, familiar surge of adrenaline. One last deep breath. Then he gave a rebel yell and started moving, firing as he ran.

  Two men went down. A third, then a fourth. Cam raced for the side of the building, bullets whining past his head. He turned the corner and flattened himself against the wall. For the first time, he let himself think he and Salome might just survive this…except, there were more men coming, crouched low as they raced toward him.

  Too many men. Too many guns.

  This was it, then. He was outnumbered and outgunned. It was time to get back to Salome. Hold her in his arms. Tell her that these few days had been—that they had been wonderful. Kiss her mouth, put the gun to her temple…

  Something hit him in the chest.

  It felt like a sledgehammer. But why would anybody be wielding a sledge—a sledge—

  “Ahhh.”

  Pain blossomed like a multi-petaled flower, radiating through his chest, his shoulders, his arms. Cam slid down the wall. He looked down, touched his chest, came away with smears of crimson on his fingers.

  The sound of gunfire faded. A boot kicked at his leg. He raised his eyes, saw a man standing over him. It was hard to see clearly—things had become hazy, for some reason—but he knew that cruel face.

  “Asaad?”

  “Mr. Knight.” A delighted smile. Another prod of the boot. “How nice to see you again.”

  Cam grunted and tried to struggle to his feet. The sultan laughed, jammed his foot on Cam’s chest and pushed him back.

  “I’m afraid you won’t be going anywhere, Mr. Knight. Did you really think you could escape me?”

  Salome. Where was she? Cam had to get to her.

  “Are you looking for someone? Of course you are. You’re looking for my harem girl.”

  Cam labored for breath. “Not yours,” he wheezed. “Never—”

  Asaad jerked his head to the side and barked a command. One of his men came forward, dragging something—someone—behind him.

  Cam’s eyes filled with tears.

  It was his Salome. A rope was looped around her neck; her hands were bound. Her face was dirty and bruised. And she was weeping.

  “Cam,” she sobbed. “Oh, Cam!”

  Asaad watched, smiling. He let her get within inches of Cam. Then, still smiling, he grabbed her by the hair and yanked her back.

  “I only regret that you will not live to watch me enjoy my prize, Mr. Knight. I suppose you won’t live long enough to sign that oil lease, either, but it’s almost worth the privilege of seeing you—”

  Cam raised his gun. The sultan’s eyes widened with shock.

  “Bang,” Cam whispered, and pulled the trigger.

  A perfect hole appeared in the center of Asaad’s forehead and he crumpled to the ground, lifeless.

  Thwap.Thwap.Thwap.

&nb
sp; One of the sultan’s men let out a wild cry. Cam looked at Salome. Now, he told himself. Now. One bullet remained. One bullet to spare her agony.

  God, no. He couldn’t. Couldn’t…

  Thwap. Thwap. Thwap.

  A giant bird dropped from the sky, a Blackhawk helicopter painted in desert camouflage. Shots rang out. Asaad’s men scattered. Too late. They were easy targets.

  Then there was silence, except for the sigh of the wind.

  Cam struggled to lift his head. Tried to speak his golden dancer’s name. Tried to go to her.

  “Cameron? Cameron, goddammit, man, can’t we take our eyes off you for a minute?”

  Cam blinked. His vision was graying out, but he could have sworn he saw his brothers leaning over him.

  “Damn it, Cam, keep your eyes open. Do not close your eyes. You hear that? You die on us, bro, we’re never going to forgive you.” Matt’s voice was harsh but his hands were gentle.

  “Get his head up,” Alex said gruffly.

  “Salome,” Cam whispered.

  Matt’s head bent to his. “What?”

  “Salome. My golden dancer…”

  And then the gray turned black, and Cam fell into an ocean of darkness.

  Noise. Lights. Pain, sharp as the blade of a knife. Pinpricks and a duller pain, pulsing with each beat of his heart.

  Salome.

  Salome.

  And then, again, darkness.

  Voices. Some that were familiar, some that weren’t.

  “Not good.”

  “…best we can, but—”

  “…significant loss of blood.”

  “…young. Strong. No promise, but—”

  And always, always, a single name inside his head.

  Salome.

  And then, one morning, Cameron opened his eyes.

  He was in a white-walled room. Lights traced irregular patterns on a monitor; something was beeping with annoying constancy. Plastic tubes snaked into his arms, and an invisible mastodon was camped on his chest.

  Cam groaned.

  He couldn’t be dead. Even if he’d believed in heaven and hell, neither place would look like this.

  The good news was that he was in a hospital bed.

  The bad news was that he was in a hospital bed and not one of the faces grouped around him was Salome’s.

  “Hey, bro.”

  Cam turned his head a fraction of an inch. Alex flashed a wobbly grin.

  “Glad you decided to stay around.”

  Cam tried to answer but he felt as if someone had scooped all the sand from the desert and dumped it down his throat.

  “He wants water,” someone else said. It was Matt, who reached out and gripped his shoulder. “Good to see you again,” he said gruffly.

  “Ice chips,” another voice said authoritatively. “The nurse said no water, remember? Here, let me do it.”

  Cam blinked as his father eased a hand around his nape and gently supported him so he could reach a paper cup filled with ice.

  His old man? Bending over him with damp eyes? Maybe he really was dead, after all. But the ice was real and wonderfully wet, and his father’s mouth was curved in a smile.

  “Welcome home, son. It’s good to have you back.”

  Cam nodded. “Yeah,” he rasped. “Iss good to be back.” He took a long breath, trying not to wince at the sudden stab of pain in his chest. “Salome?”

  His father’s brow furrowed. His brothers looked at each other.

  “Who?”

  “Salome,” he said impatiently. “My gldn’ncer.”

  “Ah. The woman.” Alex nodded reassuringly. “She’s fine. Not a scratch on her.”

  Cam closed his eyes, fought against the black water trying to close over his head.

  “Wan’see her.”

  Another look passed between his brothers. “Sure,” Matt said. “Soon as you’re feeling better.”

  “Wan’seehernow,” Cam said, and the room began to spin.

  “Cameron,” his father said, but his voice seemed to come from a long way off.

  The darkness sucked him under.

  He awoke a couple of more times, but it was always the same. His brothers, his father. Doctors, nurses, machines.

  No Salome.

  And then, finally, he swam up from the dark depths, opened his eyes and knew he was better. The mastodon on his chest had been replaced by an elephant. There was only one tube in his arm and the blinking, beeping machines were gone.

  Cam turned his head. Looked around. His brothers were sprawled in a pair of too-small chairs near the window.

  “Hey,” he said.

  What came out sounded like the croak of a sick frog but they heard him. They shot from their chairs, almost tripped over each other as they hurried to his side.

  “Hey, yourself,” Matt said.

  Cam ran the tip of his tongue over his lips. “How long?”

  “Two weeks,” Alex replied.

  Two weeks. God, two weeks!

  “Salome?”

  Matt made a cluck-cluck sound Cam knew meant he was stalling for time.

  “What about this Salome?”

  “I want to see her.”

  His brothers exchanged a quick look. “Well,” Matt said cautiously, “you get back on your feet, I’m sure you’ll be able to—”

  “She’s not here?”

  “No,” Alex said, “she’s not.”

  Had he dreamed his brothers had told him she was safe? Cam struggled up against the pillows.

  “Didn’t you get her out with me? You did, didn’t you? You didn’t leave—”

  “Easy, man. Of course we got her out. Took her on the chopper.” Alex squeezed Cam’s hand. “Landed you on board the USS Sentry. You were hanging on by a thread. You needed medical attention, fast.”

  “What happened to Salome?”

  “The chopper took her to Dubai.”

  “And?”

  “And…” Alex blew out a breath. “After that, I don’t know.”

  “What do you mean, you don’t know?”

  “He means,” Matt said carefully, “we don’t know. We stayed beside you on the Sentry while the medics worked on you. When you were stabilized, they airlifted you out.”

  “You never checked to see what had happened to Salome in Dubai?”

  “No,” Alex said bluntly, “we didn’t. It never occurred to us. We were too busy making sure you didn’t do something stupid, like die.”

  Cam looked at his brothers. Their eyes reflected what they’d gone through over the last weeks.

  “Yeah,” he said softly. “Right.” He managed a quick smile. “One of us never could get away from the others, I guess.”

  “Damned right,” Matt said. “Even the old man stuck to you like glue.”

  Cam nodded. “Yeah.” His voice roughened. “Thanks. For everything. I mean, for a while there, I kind of figured I’d imagined seeing you ugly so-and-so’s climbing out of that big, beautiful bird.” He paused. “Asaad? Did I really get him?”

  “The son of a bitch is history. You would have been, too, if that call you made on your cell hadn’t gotten through. We got just enough info to figure out your location.”

  “And save my life.”

  “Yup. Us and a few pals from the old days saved your sorry ass, and don’t think we’re gonna let you forget it.”

  The brothers grinned at each other. Then Cam ran his tongue over his lips.

  “She phoned, right? Salome?” There was an uncomfortable silence. “Phoned you? To find out how I was doing?”

  “Actually…actually, no. Not me,” Alex said. “Matt? You hear anything?”

  “Sorry, man. She hasn’t been in touch.”

  “But—but—” But, why would she call? He’d said things meant to hurt her. Or—or maybe she couldn’t call. Maybe she’d never gotten to Dubai.

  “Cam?”

  “Yeah.” Cam cleared his throat. “I have to find out what happened to her.”